Spirit
by emeegee
Summary: Rossiu reflects on what he is, and what he is not.


**Spirit**

He had always been a hard man. He calculated and made plans and stuck to them- he was different from all those raging fools out there, charging headfirst into every conflict without stopping to think. He used to watch them blunder about and wonder whether idiots equipped with giant, weapon-loaded mecha and a good dose of overconfidence could be anything but a public menace.

That didn't mean, though, that he didn't love them. In fact, he loved them quite a lot. The trouble was, he was too good at hiding it. So good that even he sometimes forgot that he wasn't the cold stone man he presented to the world. He had learned from an early age that sometimes, sacrifices had to be made… and so, he had made them. He had sacrificed others- Simon, innocent, sent away to prison. Half a city, abandoned by their would-be-savior in the midst of a frantic ultimatum. An entire world of people who believed in him, waiting patiently underground in ignorance of their true fate.

And he had sacrificed himself. Sacrificed his reputation in the eyes of the people he loved because he believed in something, too. Wanted more than anything to save as many as he could. He tried to drown himself in effort so he couldn't hear his heart breaking under the pressure of anger, death, and that awful look of dull, resigned acceptance as the ex-supreme commander was led away in chains.

He had broken a little, after that. He had watched them disassemble the bombs, perfectly calm and composed even as Kittan had raged at him. He had gone back to the office, filed the necessary paperwork, and broadcast a public service announcement to officially proclaim Simon's conviction. But the moment he'd stepped through his bedroom door and he was alone, the moment the constant scrutiny had ceased, the mask had crumpled and slid from his face, shattering on the floor at his feet. The files he'd been carrying had slipped from his trembling hands and scattered, his knees had buckled, and he'd collapsed in a sobbing, broken heap among the papers, screaming at himself until his throat was raw and his breath came in short, shallow spasms.

He cursed himself for not being able to think like them, to see things in terms of brute strength and sheer willpower. Instead he saw the casualties, the future of groups instead of individuals, the possible strategies and solutions. The others were so carefree in their simple confidence, while he was burdened with logic. And look where that had gotten him.

When Simon had punched him- he lifted a hand to lightly brush his fingers over the still-raw bruise on his jaw- he had realized something incredible. Simon _still believed in him._ Still believed, when he himself had stopped so long ago. Already accepted himself as the villain in his attempts to fix things the only way he knew how, already resigned himself to being hated by his friends, the friends he loved but from whom he'd always felt a little excluded. And Simon had told him to grit his teeth in a different way than he'd been doing all this time, told him that he'd never been shut out, and that they loved him and needed him, and they would all fix things together and he didn't have to hide anymore. He could come out now, and nobody would be angry. There was nothing to be forgiven.

All this, with one fist.

Rossiu didn't think he would ever stop admiring these people, ever stop loving them- especially Simon, king of the overconfident idiots. And as he watched the battered, battle-worn machinery descend steadily from the sky, the swelling in his heart told him that maybe he could understand that strength that was the source of their willpower, after all.

~End

**Author's Note:**

I adore Rossiu, and I'm sad that the majority of what I see concerning him is incredibly negative. I feel really bad for him as a character, because it must SUCK to be the _only person_ who actually thinks logically about things, and it must suck to have logic not work in that world. And you know, in any other series he'd probably be considered brilliant. xD It's just that the TTGL universe has like... an anti-logic field, or something.

But either way, it seems like a lot of people just take him at face value when he's being a jerk, and they decide they hate him at that point and refuse to change their minds about him afterwards. But it's not like he was being mean for _fun._ And it had a huge emotional toll on him, too- I mean, he tried to commit_ suicide__. _That's pretty serious, and it makes me sad that so many people still insist that he's a heartless bastard. As far as I'm concerned, he was forgiven completely the moment I saw his breakdown. He's just… incredibly non genre-savvy, poor thing. xD


End file.
